


The Walls You Build Yourself

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Credence Barebone Deserves Better, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt Original Percival Graves, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Manipulative Gellert Grindelwald, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-01 09:52:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11483895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Graves being on the brink of death from a combination of dehydration, starvation and infected wounds after Grindelwald got everything he wanted to know and left Graves to rot in captivity. And that's when the visits start. Graves thinks it's a hallucination: a boy he doesn't recognise, someone he's never met, who brings him water/food/healing potions. And as the days go on Graves gets stronger, realises the boy isn't a figment of his imagination and that he's probably falling for one of Grindelwald's followers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt: http://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1184.html?thread=1976480#cmt1976480

Percival Graves knew that he was going to die. It wasn't a thought he enjoyed, but in some ways it was a comfort. The first Graves in America had died in the service of MACUSA. Without children, the last of the line would follow. As a Graves, dying for MACUSA had always been a possibility. Percival had grown up knowing it with the same surety that other children knew that they would be the best Quidditch player ever, or that they would be married. 

He had been willing to die for MACUSA. He wasn't willing to die like this. He was chained in a basement where the madman who had captured him had thrown him. For a while the man had visited, coming to torture him and ask more questions, get him to tell everything he wanted to know. He'd learned to flinch when he heard footsteps on the stairs, knowing pain was coming for him, even as he was relieved by the food that his captor brought. He learned to be grateful for every scrap of food, every splash of water.

But his captor had stopped coming. 

Percival hoped that this meant his absence had been discovered, that it meant that MACUSA had discovered he was missing and had arrested the man. He knew in his heart it meant that his captor had no more use for him. The man's attempt to take control of MACUSA had succeeded, and he no longer needed to try and torture information from Percival.

The room spun around him, and he found opening his eyes a challenge. He was waiting for death, and he knew it wouldn't be long in arriving. He didn't mind the thought of the pain ending, just wished it would hurry up and get there. There was no dignity in this, no pride. He was wasting away in a cellar, his body cramped by pain and hunger. If his captor had returned with a glass of water, bargained with him for his cooperation, he was no longer sure he would have been able to hold out. He focused on positive memories, of summer days in Ilvermorny with Seraphina, of successful raids and brilliant aurors. He wouldn't let the madman who had taken so much take his sanity as well.

He barely heard the footsteps on the stairs, hovering between sleep and wakefulness. The stairs creaked strangely, as though the individual treading on them was used to passing unnoticed, but he didn't worry about that. His captor was coming, and if he was lucky then his reward would be death, and all of this would be over.

There was a pause, and he could hear the man outside fumbling with the lock. He held his breath, tensing - it was likely he would start with a torture spell, and Percival didn't want to break in front of him if he could help it. Then the door swung open.

The man who stood there was surprisingly thin, his tall body hunched in on itself as though it were desperately attempting to pass unnoticed. He stepped forwards, and Percival noticed the boy's hair was in an ugly cut, different from the fashions. He was dressed all in black, carrying a tray. One of his captor's torturers perhaps, or some other form of devoted follower. He wanted to spit in the man's face. He didn't have the strength for it.

The man approached, and he heard the unmistakable splash of water in a cup. He sat up as much as his strength allowed, focused on the pale man who was approaching. The young man wouldn't look directly at him, glancing forwards occassionally. The youth was sneaking glances at him. He went to his knees in front of Percival, the movement smooth and well practiced, before lifting the cup and bringing it to Percival's lips.

Percival hoped for poison, but would have been willing to settle for water, and it was water that flowed into his dry mouth, running across his cracked lips. The young man - he was older than Percival had first thought, the same age as the junior aurors - pulled the cup away after a second. Once Percival had swallowed the water he had been given, the young man provided more. 

The young man's fingers brushed through Percival's hair, catching in the knots that had formed, before he jerked away. A frown crossed his features, but then he picked up the other thing that was on the plate. It took Percival a moment to place the thin shape of it, and when he did he nearly laughed at the incongrinuity of it - the young man had brought a hotdog. It was held up to his lips, and he leaned forwards to take a bite, given more water. He gazed up at the youth, staring into his eyes, and attempted to speak to him.  
"Thank you."

The boy seemed startled by his voice, and placed down the still full cup and the hotdog within reach of Percival's chained wrists. He hurried to the stairs, glancing back over his shoulder as he went. He fumbled with the lock and slipped away.

Percival considered what had just happened. It was the most interesting thing that had occurred for several days. The young man was clearly nervous around him - an American wizard then, who knew who Percival was. Perhaps he had drawn the short straw when it came to ensuring that the prisoner didn't die. But there had been such tenderness in his touches that his reluctance seemed less fear than shyness.

It didn't matter. Most likely the other man had been asked by Grindelwald to help Percival recover some strength so that he could survive a fresh round of torture. What Percival had initially perceived as tenderness was most likely simply an act to see if he was going to live. He couldn't let himself trust any of Grindelwald's men. Doing so would only lead to further pain.


	2. Chapter 2

"Do this, and you will be honoured among wizards forever." That had been what Mister Grindelwald had promised. Back when he had still been called Mister Graves, when his face had been kind, when his touches had been soft. 

Credence remembered that. But the looks he got now were not reverence or respect. They were fear - he'd felt it often enough himself to recognise it in the eyes of others. Mister Graves had found him among the ruins of the church, and had known immediately what he was. He had taken him in, praised him. It had been the fresh start Credence had always wanted, and now he was beginning to doubt it all.

He sat on the sofa as Mister Grindelwald strode around. Mister Grindelwald was giving another of his speeches, but Credence had an open book beside him, and if he looked to the side he could see pictures of dragons flying across the page. It was better than listening to another lecture about No-Majs, about what Mister Grindelwald was doing and how it was saving wizardkind.

"I will need you to appear during a meeting I have later."  
"Yes Mister Grindelwald," Credence answered quietly, his head bowed. He tried not to think of the man he had once seen, the future he had hoped would arrive. Allowing himself those thoughts would only lead to worse pain in the future, and he didn't want to cause that. He took a slow deep breath, and then another, and another.

Mister Grindelwald paused in his lecture, turning and walking towards Credence, reaching with one hand to tilt Credence's face up towards him.  
"What is bothering you my boy... You haven't been yourself, even as your work has given us so much..."  
"People fear me," Credence murmured. "I want to help people, and I know we are making things better for people but they are frightened by me. They look away as they pass by."  
"We're building a better world for you and for your sister," Mister Grindelwald reminded. "You know how happy little Modesty is in the care of Goldstein."  
"Yes sir," Credence said quickly. "And I want her to stay there sir." Mister Grindelwald had hinted before that if Credence wasn't willing to use the monster inside of him to help Mister Grindelwald, then he would not be willing to allow Modesty Barebone to stay with the pretty blonde lady who treated her well and gave her nice dresses.

Credence wasn't allowed to see Modesty often. Only occassionally, when he did particularly well. But she looked happy, and she ran to embrace him with a smile, the blonde lady nearby at wandpoint in case he got any ideas. He didn't want to take her new mother away from her.

Mister Grindelwald closed his eyes, breathing slowly for a moment. Credence tensed - if Mister Grindelwald was making a show of thinking like this, his next sentence would either be extremely generous, or the stuff nightmares were made of.  
"I've been impressed by your work recently Credence."  
"Thank you sir," Credence answered, quick and polite, his body tensing as though waiting for the belt to fall.

"I've decided that you can have a reward."   
Credence nodded, fear closing up his throat and stopping him from speaking. The reward could be seeing his sister, or some other unbelievable kindness, or it could be something far worse.   
"You miss my old face, don't you my boy?"  
"Yes sir," Credence admitted. Mister Grindelwald could always tell if he was lying. It was better to tell the truth and be damned for honesty than lie and be caught out on that.  
"I see... well, we both know how happy little Modesty is, and she's only little. That makes her fragile, and we don't want her to be hurt."  
"No sir. Please." Credence cringed, his hands wringing in front of him. "Don't use that curse on her, she's only a child, I'll be good, I'll..." His heart was hammering now, and he shuddered when Mister Grindelwald placed a hand on his shoulder, thumb stroking through the fabric.

"I would never hurt your darling little sister," Mister Grindelwald promised, and Credence felt almost weak with relief.  
"Thank you sir," he whispered, glancing up at him.  
"I have a rather special present in mind for you," Mister Grindelwald informed him, and he nodded. No matter what torture would follow, it was better it fell on him than on his sister.

"Don't look so frightened my boy." Mister Grindelwald clapped one large hand down on Credence's shoulder. "I'm giving you all that you want. The man whose face gave me the power I needed... he is yours, and as long as you do well I won't harm or kill him. You aren't to break him, but have as much fun with him as you wish."  
"Yes sir," Credence answered, even though he wasn't sure he understood. Mister Grindelwald turned and strode from the room, and Credence fell into place behind him.

"Take this." Mister Grindelwald pressed a shining silver key into his hand. "Grab some food and some water, and go down into the basement. Your new toy will be waiting there. I haven't fed him for some days, so he'll be pleased to see you."  
Credence nodded slowly, taking the offered keys and then heading to the kitchen. He picked up the hot-dog he had bought earlier that day, and left when Mister Grindelwald had summoned him for another lecture. He placed it on a small silver tray with a cup of water, and made his way to the stairs.

The lock was tricky, but eventually it opened and he made his way down quietly, not wanting to wake anyone who might have been resting within. He stared when he saw the only resident of the room, chained to the wall. The face was dirty and the hair had grown long, but there was no mistaking Mister Graves. He was so startled he nearly dropped his tray, but he steadied himself to approach. The prisoner looked up at him, his gaze hard, and Credence couldn't meet his eyes. He knelt before him, holding a cup of water to his lips, watching as he drank it thirstily. After a moment he pulled the cup away, only to repeat the gesture, allowing him to drink his fill.

Being so close to Mister Graves was astounding, but Credence knew that the other man must hate him for all that he had done. He was working for Mister Grindelwald, a man who kept Mister Graves chained up in his own basement. He reached out to brush his fingers through Mister Graves' hair, to soothe away the worst of the tangles. A moment later he realised what he was doing and jerked away. The prisoner had no reason to like him, no reason to see him as anything other than a traitor. He wouldn't want Credence's touch. Instead, he tried to give the man some food. He encouraged him to alternate between sips of water and bites of the hotdog for a little while, almost hypnotised by his actions.

"Thank you," Mister Graves said, and that word shook the silence of the room. Credence realised he had been down here for longer than he intended. He carefully placed the cup and the remains of the food beside Mister Graves, within reach of him, then hurried up the stairs holding the tray. He locked the door behind him.

Mister Grindelwald greeted him with a nod and a knowing smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Percival had been surprised when he had first been given food. Now it was becoming a routine - he would lay in the cellar wishing for death, waiting for it to claim him or for Grindelwald to appear with news of the outside world. He would be hungry, and his mouth would be dry, but he wouldn't say he wanted either of them. Either no one would hear him, or worse his cell was targeted by recording spells. He didn't particularly what to let Grindelwald hear him pleading and begging, and that meant that he had to keep the fear and anger inside. A Graves wouldn't surrender, not even as they died. He refused to fail his family even more than he already had. He tried to stay strong and remember things that helped. He thought of Seraphina, of his team, of the man with dark hair. Those last thoughts were ones he despised, but sometimes they kept him alive so he couldn't truly hate them.

The man would appear only as he began to lose hope, to think the dark-haired servant of Grinndelwald was just a product of his fevered brain. The man didn't speak to him, or smile. He just placed down some food, and provided him with a few sips of water before placing the cups within reach. On a few occasions, the days when the young man felt boldest, he reached out to touch Percival's hair. Percival wished he would spell it clean, but he never did. Just looked down at him with those dark sad eyes, which seemed too old for his face.

The man was almost as thin as Percival himself, and Percival found himself worrying - was the food he was being given the man's own? Even if it were, he needed to eat so badly he wouldn't be able to refuse it, and he despised himself for that. That felt like a weakness. He was meant to protect those who needed help, but he wouldn't be able to protect this young man.

The visitor pushed open the door for what might be his ninth or tenth visit. There was a nasty dark bruise marring the left side of his face, one of his eyes swollen half-closed. He seemed smaller somehow, shrunk in on himself. His gaze was on the floor, and he didn't even glance at Percival's face. Percival tried to smile and look welcoming, but he had never heard the boy speak - not when he greeted him, and not when he ignored him. At times he wondered if he was even able to.

This man was the only other human he saw, and the lack of a response to his friendly greetings had been bothering him. Percival would have yelled, if not for how every inch of his body was screaming at him to show mercy to a young man who was clearly frightened. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Grindelwald might have done to him - he was aware more than most that the man was a monster. He cleared his throat, and the boy jumped.  
"Sorry to scare you," he murmured. "I just wanted to..." He paused, suddenly unsure what to say - if Grindelwald was hurting him he'd know what the man was, but he still was choosing to serve him. "I wanted to see if you were alright," he finished weakly, but the other man's lips twitched up in a smile.

The man waved one hand and nodded, looking into his eyes for a second before glancing away. That was the first time that Percival had managed to catch the young man's eye, and he hoped that it was a positive sign. The young man handed him a glass of water.  
"Thank you," Percival murmured. He might have been in a terrible situation, but he refused to be rude. His parents had raised him better than that. The young man smiled a little as he sipped the water. "Your face looks pretty sore."

The man didn't say anything about that. He didn't want to press it, only too aware how bad things could get. He looked the young man over, his forehead creased with concern but also confusion - the young man had no wand on him. Perhaps it was to ensure he couldn't arm Percival - but the logical assumption there was that Grindelwald either thought he was a traitor, or that he would be unable to fight Percival - so he couldn't be a particularly strong wizard. It was unthinkable that Grindelwald would have a No-Maj working for him.

Percival had something for his mind to work on, and after so long staring at the blank walls he was fascinated by this other person. He was fed, and the man reached out and brushed his fingers through Percival's hair. Percival smiled a little, leaning into the touch. After so little contact he clung to this moment. He realised he needed to give the boy a name.  
"I want a name to call you," he explained, and the young man's lips twitched a little in that nervous smile. "You can't just be called you or young man by me. Are you going to tell me?"

The young man shook his head. Percival pursed his lips, considering his options.  
"What about James?" he asked softly. "You have a kind way about you."  
There was no response. But Percival was sure that an American wizard would know the reference - the No-Maj co-founder of Ilvermorny. Perhaps this man was from Europe, brought in by Grindelwald as a helper. 

It had been almost ten years since Percival had spoken any German, and most of his German came down to insults, ordering drinks, and Christmas carols. But he was willing to try.  
“Guten Tag, Ich heiße Percival, und du?”  
The young man gazed at him with almost worrying blankness.  
"Okay then," Percival continued, switching back to English. "I will call you James."

 

The young man nodded in understanding, dropping a sandwich down and then leaving.   
"Thank you James!" he called after him as the door slammed shut, the lock clicking into place.

The next time he came, he walked in in silence, carrying a tray. He placed down another hotdog and a glass of water, then raced away. Percival wasn't able to say anything before he had run back out.

When the door next opened, James was looking around shyly. The bruise on his face had faded, and Percival was hungry. So it had been several days.  
"Hello James," Percival greeted him. "I hope you've been alright..." And again, there was that little twitch of lips, James's fragile smile. "What've we got today?"  
The man held out a burger and some french fries, sitting down beside him while he ate.  
"Thanks for these James."

James's smile widened for a moment, before he looked towards the stairs, tense.  
"He hasn't been down here at all," Percival explained, and James's shoulders seemed to relax. "I missed you."

James glanced up at that, shocked. Percival was struck by how much James hunched into himself - he must have been tall, had he stood up straight. Percival just kept smiling to soothe him, and it seemed to be working.

When James left that time, it was with a shy wave. Percival stretched. He was sore, but the food he was being given was meaning he was growing stronger. Grindelwald still hadn't shown any interest in him, and all the time he was ignored he was going to be able to build up the strength that he needed to fight the man.

That night, Percival dreamed of James. In his dreams James didn't speak, not with Percival having no idea how he would sound. But he kissed softly, and he smiled brightly. They weren't in the cell. They were free together, able to hold onto each other and knowing that they were happy.

Waking to reality and the cold damp walls of the basement was hard. But Percival was beginning to believe he wouldn't be trapped here forever. He couldn't be that weak.


	4. Chapter 4

Seeing Mister Graves - The real Mister Graves, not Mister Grindelwald - was the highlight of Credence's day. It was clear that Mister Graves was getting stronger every day. Credence was giving him what food he could spare, stroking his hair, smiling at him. It was all going well. 

Mister Grindelwald wouldn't give him permission to see Mister Graves every day, only when Credence had been particularly helpful. Credence wanted to do well for Mister Grindelwald - and not just for the reward he was given by seeing Mister Graves. It was good to see Mister Graves, to get called James and have someone care about how he was. But he also wanted to make Mister Grindewald happy. Mister Grindelwald said that what they were doing was going to make a difference. That he would be able to help magical people. He would be freeing them from their nightmares, letting magical people live freely. They wouldn't have to hide any more, and that would be a good thing.

Men and women like Mary Lou had been having too much power for too long. They had hurt too many witches and wizards, killed them even, because of what they are. Mister Grindelwald was helping wizardkind. He was putting people where they deserved to be, treating them properly. Credence understood that. The meetings Mister Grindelwald was having, the ones where Credence sat in the background and helped people see what power Mister Grindelwald had at his command - they were for the good of all people, magic and non-magic.

Credence wasn't sure about it at all. He knew what it was meant to do. Mister Grindelwald was convinced that it would be a good thing to do, but Credence wasn't quite convinced. People looked at him nervously. People seemed uncertain of him - even other wizards flinched back from him.

Only three people liked Credence. There was Mister Grindelwald, who was guiding him and helping him to be a good wizard. There was Modesty, his baby sister - one that he got to see only when Grindelwald was most pleased. And Queenie, Modesty's new adoptive mother. She was magical, even though Grindelwald had taken her wand, and she made Modesty happy. Everyone else saw what a monster Credence was.

He was lucky to have Mister Grindelwald. He was helping him. But Mister Grindelwald only liked him because he could be the obscurus, and everyone else hated him for that very reason.

Mister Graves didn't know. Mister Graves liked Credence even though he didn't know his name, because he brought him food and smiled at him. That was enough. Mister Graves didn't know about the obscurus, and he found himself daydreaming about him. He'd lay there and imagine Mister Graves cuddling him gently, imagined Mister Graves wanting to care for him.

He must have been smiling, even when he shouldn't have been. He was meant to listen to what Mister Grindelwald wanted from him. But he had already heard everything Mister Grindelwald had to say - that Mister Grindelwald was saving people, that wizards were superior - the same things he had heard from Ma his whole life, but the other way around.

"Credence," Mister Grindelwald called out. "My boy, I want you to listen to me. You are helping me, you belong to me, you understand that. No one else is going to help, because there's a monster in you. You are a danger. Do you hear me?"  
"Yes sir," Credence answered quickly.

"But I won't give up on you. I want to help you."  
"Thank you sir."   
"I will use you. Everyone else is afraid, but I'm going to show the world how even monsters can help. Anyone who tries to stop us will face both of us."  
"Thank you," Credence agreed, gazing down at the floor.

"Do you want to see your pet today?"  
"Please," Credence murmured. When he saw Mister Graves, he could forget about everything. He would find some food for Mister Graves, make him stronger, maybe stroke his hair again, maybe help him. Maybe he could make Mister Graves care about him. It was his dream.

"Go on then," Mister Grindelwald answered, with a faint smile on his face. "And don't say I never do anything for you."  
Credence nodded, fetching a glass of water and finding a burger for him. Mister Grindelwald always had some food for the two of them, but there wasn't quite enough for all three of them. It was okay though. Credence didn't mind having not enough food if it meant that Mister Graves got to eat and got to live.

He unlocked the basement door, pushing it open and walking inside.  
"Hello James," Mister Graves greeted him as he sat up as best he could, hissing a little in pain at the movement. He was still worryingly thin, but he looked stronger than he had before.  
Credence smiled slightly at that. He wondered if Mister Graves had a friend called James, someone Credence reminded him of. He held out the glass of water and the burger, walking over and holding the glass to his lips, then placing it down and putting the empty glass back on a tray.

"Thank you," Mister Graves said softly. His voice was a little shaky, his eyes unfocused, but he was so much stronger than the first time that they had spoken that it made Credence smile. He ran his fingers through Mister Graves' hair, and Mister Graves smiled a little up at him.  
"I missed you James. Thank you."  
"You're welcome," Credence whispered softly in reply.


	5. Chapter 5

James seemed to smile more every time he visited. James's smile was a fragile little thing, nervous and afraid, but more beautiful for the courage it must have taken to form it living in such fear. The more time Percival spent with the man, the more he became convinced that James wasn't intentionally serving Grindelwald. There was nothing malicious or cruel about him, no evil bone in his body. He was a prisoner, just like Percival was, Percival was sure of it.

So he tried to support him. He smiled in return, he said thank you for the food, and he leaned into the boy's touch. He tried to make him feel wanted, talking softly about how he was glad to see him. Sometimes that praise backfired, and James didn't show his face for a few days after that, but he tried not to think too much of it. Generally it seemed to be working. James seemed happy to see him, seemed to care about him. 

Sometimes when he lay there his mind would drift off and he would wonder what James was having to do to earn these visits. He didn't believe Grindelwald was kind enough to allow moments like this for free, and he wasn't being asked for anything, which likely meant that James was. He didn't want to know but he couldn't help wondering. Grindelwald was a monster, and James was vulnerable. Those thoughts made him want to punch Grindelwald more than ever.

The food seemed to be becoming more regularly now, and James seemed to be growing more confident, lingering in the cell a little longer, reaching out to touch him with less hesitation. It was easier to focus on James than on the situation Percival was trapped in. He wanted to bed the boy, but the boy served Grindelwald. Wanting him was desiring the enemy, and that was something which Percival had never intended to allow. He had wanted to be strong, to ignore every temptation put in his way, but the boy was a temptation too great to avoid.

When he heard the door lock, he tensed despite himself. Even knowing that his visitor was most likely James, he didn't want to risk being vulnerable if it was Grindelwald. The door swung open, and it was James who stood there, his eyes wide and uncertain.  
"Thank you," he breathed, half to James for coming and half in relief that it wasn't Grindelwald who was stood there. James was carrying a plate of food, making his way down towards him.   
"Hello James," Percival greeted, speaking louder now, wanting him to be heard. James smiled as he reached Percival and ran his fingers through his hair gently, before holding the water glass to Percival's lips.  
"Thank you." Percival drank his fill and let James take away the cup from the night before. "I missed you James. Thank you." He wanted to soothe him, to let him know that all his work was appreciated.  
James ducked his head before he responded.  
"You're welcome..." His voice was quiet, and he glanced up towards the stairs as though expecting to find Grindelwald there with his wand out. There was no disruption, no footsteps approaching. Just the two of them in the basement, gazing at each other.

Percival knew now that James could speak.  
"Are you alright James?" he asked. "Are you going to tell me your real name?"  
James turned and fled before he could answer, leaving Percival alone in the dark once more. He tried to entertain himself by counting how many bricks there were in the basement, but he couldn't concentrate - not with the knowledge that James was out there, that James might have been hurting and had no one there to stand beside him.

***

There was a delay before James visited again, a little longer than before. Percival had begun to worry that he was gone, or that he had been hurt for his momentary speech. He hated being so powerless. His dreams were filled with nightmares of what Grindelwald could have done to James. Every night brought ideas of tortures worse than before. But there was no way he could escape his bindings and go and rescue James. He was trapped, and his situation was hopeless. He found himself considering his options. If Grindelwald came down, he would be willing to surrender his information for James' safety, but he had already give up all the information of worth. He knew that getting him to speak might have been Grindelwald's plan from the start.

Dangle James in front of him, build a rapport, and then hope that Percival would be willing to sacrifice everything to keep him safe. Only James's own shyness made him doubt that was what was happening, and it could all be an act to drain what little information he had left. He had never meant to fall for a follower of Grindelwald's. But James was his only company here, and his smile was bewitching. 

If James was acting, if he was pretending to be afraid in order to use Percival, he was the single best actor that Percival had ever met. He looked like he was terrified. And that fragment of speech which could have been used as an opening to more instead appeared to have frightened James away. All that Percival knew was that the boy was an American like him, and that he hadn't come back since that sentence had passed between them. The latter of the two facts frightened him into wondering whether James had abandoned him. James might be dead - Grindelwald probably had surveillance spells watching the cell at all times. Percival fought down the urge to beg the silence for James's return. That would only cause more trouble, give Grindelwald another way to hurt them both.

Percival was sick with hunger and frustration when he heard the lock click open. He squared his shoulders, preparing to confront Grindelwald - he wouldn't defeat him, but he would settle for causing an injury which would make his people question who he was. Gods didn't bleed, and Percival would gladly lay down his life to show how very human Grindelwald was.

When the door opened, it was James who stood there. He was sporting a rather nasty black eye.  
"James?" Percival asked in concern. James shook his head, walking closer and placing down some food and water. "James, talk to me."  
"I'm not meant to talk to you," James answered, his voice shaking a little. His fingers ran through Percival's hair gently, guiding him to look up towards him. James's face was close to Percival's own, and Percival had never been one to resist temptation. Not when it was so close, and he had already lost so much. He leaned up to kiss the boy, brushing his lips against James's own. James gasped, and pulled away after a moment, his face flushed red. But he didn't run this time. His fingers combed through Percival's hair more gently than ever, and he smiled at him fondly.

Percival smiled back.   
"Thank you for all this," he told James, and was rewarded by a shy smile. "You really are helping a lot... I didn't think I was going to make it before."   
James's smile was so shy, but he reached out to hold Percival's hands in his own, gazing into his eyes for a few brief moments. Percival wondered what he was looking for - recognition perhaps, or affection. He didn't know him, but he smiled and was rewarded with a smile in return.

***

After that first kiss, James made no effort to push for any more from him. But he came regularly now. Percival barely had time to begin to feel hungry before James returned with new food for him, and that trusting smile on his face. The bruises on his face faded, and were regularly replaced. As time went on, Percival's strength began to grow, and Grindelwald didn't reappear. Percival became sure that if he wasn't chained, he could fight the other man. He even thought he could land a few blows while restrained. Unfortunately, Grindelwald didn't come to visit for several weeks.

When he did, he came with James behind him, cowering and cringing - the broken boy that Percival had first met, not the silent friend whose smile brightened the worst of his days.


	6. Chapter 6

Mister Graves, the real Mister Graves, was changing everything. It was hard to even begin to understand what was happening, but Mister Graves was there every time he was permitted into the basement. Credence didn't dare speak for a long time, but Mister Graves always spoke to him, not seeming to mind that he was quiet. He always had a smile and kind words, and Credence treasured every moment of it.

When he did speak, the words snuck out without him intending to speak out loud, not wanting to be heard - one moment all was silence, and then he responded to Mister Graves' thanks in the most natural way.

Mister Graves asked more questions, asking for his real name, and he had panicked. He had fled the cellar.

Mister Grindelwald had been waiting for him, an eyebrow raised in a nasty kind of curiosity.  
"Everything alright my boy?"  
"Yes sir."

"You look as though you saw a ghost."  
"I'm sorry sir."  
"Tell me what happened, or I will fetch you some truth potion. And trust me, you won't want me to ask too many questions of you when you have no choice but to answer honestly. Not when your answers might lead to something nasty happening to your sister's friend, or your sister."  
"No," Credence sobbed slightly, terror bubbling in his chest. "Please don't hurt them. I'm sorry. I just... I just spoke to him."  
"What did he tell you?" Mister Grindelwald asked, his wand drawn now, pressed into the soft skin of Credence's throat.  
"Nothing. He just thanked me for the food sir. And I said you're welcome."

"You spoke to him," Mister Grindelwald snarled. "He will lie to you. I didn't give you this pet for you to talk with him. That's not what he is there for."  
"I know sir," Credence swallowed. He wasn't meant to talk to the prisoner. Not really, Mister Grindelwald had been clear on that - he had been a lot less clear on what Credence was meant to do with him. Credence didn't want to ask - if he didn't ask then he wouldn't know, and couldn't be punished for doing it wrong.

Mister Grindelwald sent a wave of pain through him with a faint smirk.  
"You don't get to see him for the next week."  
"Sir-" Credence opened his mouth to argue, but then realised he could get in trouble. Instead he nodded, lowering his gaze. If Mister Grindelwald didn't want him to see Mister Graves, he wouldn't argue.

***

Four days later, Credence snuck down to unlock the door for the cellar, carrying a little food and a glass of water. Mister Graves needed him. 

Even if it was against Mister Grindelwald's rules, he couldn't allow Mister Graves to starve. The smile Mister Graves him in response was calming. He didn't plan to risk speaking to him, didn't want to bring Mister Grindelwald's anger down on him.  
"James?" Mister Graves pleaded. "James, talk to me." He sounded desperate.  
"I'm not meant to talk to you," Credence told him firmly. But Mister Graves looked worried, and he reached out to stroke his hair.

In doing so he leaned in closer, and Mister Graves took that moment to lean up and press his lips against Credence's own. Credence had never been kissed before. But it felt nice when Mister Graves kissed him. He pulled away, embarrassed, but smiled down at him.

"Thank you for all this. You really are helping a lot... I didn't think I was going to make it before."  
Credence smiled, and reached out to hold Mister Graves's hand, because they had kissed, because Mister Graves made him feel good.

He managed to sneak back to his room without getting caught.

***

He felt angry to Mister Grindelwald, even when the punishment was over and he was allowed to bring some food to Mister Graves. Mister Graves was starving, and if Credence hadn't disobeyed he would have really struggled, and that was a sickening thought. 

He didn't let his anger out. It wasn't his place. Mister Grindelwald was looking after him, taking care of him. He had inducted Credence into the world of magic, and for that Credence owed him his life.

He would have behaved. Mister Grindelwald had control over Modesty and Mister Graves, and Credence didn't want either of them hurt.

What pushed him over the edge was a reward. Apparently, Mister Grindelwald had been doing well expanding his control, and he felt that Credence deserved a treat. He took him to the safehouse, moving by the instant magic wizards had.  
"You can't talk to her," he told Credence, bringing him up to the window of the house. "But I'll let you see her now."

Credence looked in. Modesty was sitting on a comfortable chair, playing with a couple of dolls. Modesty's adoptive mother was beside her, reading to her quietly. Miss Queenie looked ill - her skin was pale and there were dark bags under her eyes, but Modesty looked happy.

After a moment, Mister Grindelwald dragged him away.  
"So, you continue to obey and I'm sure we can get you to meet for a meal. Maybe she can even stay over for a night."  
Credence smiled at that.  
"Is Miss Queenie well?"  
"She's not been eating properly, but I've explained to her that she will have to do it. We can't have little Modesty being traumatised by another mother dying. But you do well, and everything will be alright for both of them. You do anything wrong, and Modesty and Miss Queenie will be the ones to suffer."

Credence snarled, black smoke swirling inside of him in anger. This was all wrong. Modesty was a child. She deserved better.

Mister Grindewald lashed out, bringing his hand down on Credence's cheek. Credence whimpered, backing away.  
"No," Mister Grindelwald snarled. "Don't you dare act against me my boy. I made you, and if you do anything wrong, I will destroy you."

Mister Grindelwald grabbed his arm, pulling him along. He nearly stumbled, but Mister Grindelwald pulled him on more firmly.  
"Your pet is going to suffer for that mistake boy. You should be grateful that I'm only doing this, and that I'm not getting Modesty involved."  
"Thank you," Credence made himself murmur as the door was unlocked. It was no different from a beating from Ma, waiting for the pain to stop and thanking her after for her efforts to save him.

Even that familiarity didn't make anything easier. Mister Graves looked up so hopefully when Credence arrived, and then Mister Grindelwald appeared and he frowned.  
"What's-" Mister Graves started to ask, but then Mister Grindelwald began the torture, and all he could do was scream.

Deep lines were cut across Mister Graves's body. Blood poured from them, soaking through the remains of his clothes.  
"Please," Credence begged. "I'm sorry. Don't hurt him, please. It was my fault... hurt me..." His voice shook with desperation but he knew he couldn't let Mister Graves suffer for his mistakes.  
"You are weak my boy. You make another noise, and trust me, he is going to suffer far more than you can imagine."

Credence closed his eyes, not wanting to see.  
"Watch," Mister Grindelwald ordered, and reluctantly Credence opened his eyes. "I want you to see what you have done to him."  
Shuddering, Credence made himself look on.


	7. Chapter 7

"Watch," Grindelwald ordered, the bastard that he was. "I want you to see what you have done to him." A few seconds later, pain shot through him. Behind him, he heard James sobbing. It hurt though. It hurt and he couldn't think clearly. James was begging for mercy, and for a moment Percival thought that James was also being tortured. That thought was wiped from his mind as another pain lanced through his chest. Another flick of Grindelwald's wand and his back opened up, blood pouring across the dirty floor of the basement. The pain was blinding, deafening. He was a mess. He knew he was a mess, and he couldn't make it stop. But James was still begging.

James wasn’t being hurt, and that wasn't the point. Grindelwald was hurting Percival in front of James, not to punish Percival but to punish James. And James was being tortured. Percival wished he could have appeared strong, for James's sake if nothing else, but he was having to fight to hold onto his consciousness, even as the world around him shook.

 

Darkness wavered, and Percival's consciousness threatened to slip from him. He panted, trying to stay awake, to know where he was. It wasn't easy. Nothing around him felt real. It all felt like a lie, like his mind was twisting in on him, and another burst of pain cut deep into his leg. He could hear himself scream, and didn't know how to make it stop.

He was aware that the blood on the floor was spreading out further, covering the dirt under a layer of damp rust. When the pain stopped, its absence was like a lightness and for a moment he felt like he was floating. 

He realised that James and Grindelwald were still there, still looking at him almost expectantly. He wasn't sure what they were waiting for, only that something was being waited for. He whimpered and tried to sit up, but that movement made the pain return. 

"Credence," Grindelwald snarled, and James turned towards him, his face pale and tear-streaked. It took a few moments for Percival to understand what had been said, to work out that the boy's name was Credence. This was Credence. Credence who he had cared for, who he loved and who he had spent his time with. Credence he had kissed, without ever knowing his name.

"Next time, you will do better,." Grindelwald insisted, and Credence nodded, shaking a little. Percival saw the two of them cuddled up, Credence shivering in Grindelwald's arms. He was broken, and Percival should have been the one to support him. But he couldn't do anything.

He could hear Credence murmuring desperate apologies, saw him cringing. When Grindelwald leaned in to claim Credence's lips, kissing him fiercely, all of his worst fears were confirmed. 

He couldn't understand all of the words Grindelwald was muttering. He could just tell that he was very much in control at this moment, that Percival and Credence were _both_ under his control. He was pulling both their strings, making them dance for him.

Grindelwald squeezed Credence's hip and the boy ducked slightly.   
"Clear up his mess," Grindelwald ordered and then he walked away.

"Credence?" Percival managed to whimper. Credence crouched down beside him, brushing his fingers through Percival's hair. He wanted to soothe him. Credence had been hurt, made to feel that he was responsible for Grindelwald's sadism, and he was still being kind. He couldn't stop the pain, but he was helping a little here.

"I'm sorry," Credence whispered. "I got angry." He mumbled, guilt written across his face.  
"It isn't your fault," Percival answered, cringing at the burst of pain that came when Credence leaned in and kissed his forehead. 

Percival closed his eyes as Credence smiled down at him, utterly trusting, utterly afraid. Grindelwald was a monster to both of them. But Grindelwald had managed to persuade and to control, and this man was Grindelwald's follower. Despite all the pain and all the fear, he was still loyal. 

Credence was apologising because he didn't want Percival hurt, not because he regretted working with Grindelwald. Percival wished that was enough to stop caring for him. It wasn't. Percival was falling for Grindelwald's followers, and that was something which sickened him.

Still, if Grindelwald carried on the way he was acting, Percival wasn't going to live for long enough to find out. Maybe that was his game - heal Percival up, get Credence to care, and then kill Percival and destroy Credence. He whimpered weakly, and Credence crouched down in front of him, their faces close to each other.  
"I told him we kissed," Credence whispered, leaning in and kissing him softly. Percival could taste Grindelwald on the boy's lips. It was foolish. Kissing the boy would likely only lead to worse problems, and regardless the man followed Grindelwald. Credence's lips were soft.

Percival still kissed back.


	8. Chapter 8

Once Credence had cleaned away what he could of Mister Graves' blood he returned up the stairs to find Mister Grindelwald waiting.  
"Well, have you learned your lesson my boy?"  
"Yes sir," Credence murmured. "I'll behave in future."  
"No more kissing and gentleness with the prisoner. That's not what I gave him to you for."

"No sir," Credence agreed. He still wasn't entirely sure why he had been given Mister Graves, but he was grateful for it. His lips burned with the brush of Mister Graves' mouth against his own. He thought of the kiss Mister Grindelwald had given him and felt sudden fear bubbling in his chest. 

It felt like kneeling during one of Ma's sermons, hearing about what would happen if he made any kind of mistake. About the sins he would be drawn into which would destroy his soul. He couldn't prevent them, he was just dragged towards them. 

Mister Grindelwald's touch to his hair was tinged with tenderness, but Credence's skin crawled at the contact and he barely held back on the urge to scream. Mister Grindewlald was helping him, taking care of him. He couldn't afford to panic.

Mister Grindelwald kissed him again, and then let him return to his books. Credence settled down, the biggest book he could find resting on his lap in an improvised shield. Ma had told stories of bibles that had stopped bullets. Now he was hoping that this spellbook would keep him safe.

Mister Grindelwald left him alone the rest of the day, until he could return to the cellar  
"Mister Graves?" he asked softly.

"You can call me Percival, Credence," the prisoner answered, and Credence smiled a little, rolling the name on his tongue. Percival. It was a beautiful name.  
"Thank you Mister Gra-Thank you Percival."   
"You're welcome Credence," Percival replied, and Credence smiled, reaching out to brush his fingers through Percival's hair.

"How are you feeling?"  
"Better than earlier," Percival admitted. "He's good at hurting people."  
"I know," Credence admitted. "I'm sorry." He was sorry. "I'll bring you some food soon." Credence wasn't delusional. He knew that Percival only liked him, was only kind to him, because Credence brought him things. But he wasn't going to stop bringing them. Even if Percival was using him, Percival was a good man, and the world needed more good men.

If Percival was a free man he wouldn't look twice at Credence, but now Credence could help him. So he kissed him softly before he left, letting himself dream. Percival was going to be free one day, and maybe he would remember that Credence had been kind. Maybe he would even forgive Credence for all the bad things he had done.

***

"Credence my boy," Mister Grindelwald greeted Credence with a gentleness that threatened savagery. "You look rather tired."  
"I'm sorry sir," Credence murmured. The truth was he was tired - he had spent most of the previous night sitting with Percival, listening to his stories and exchanging gentle kisses. 

"You do know your work for me comes far above any reward I might have chosen to give you?"  
"I know." Credence said quickly.  
"And how are you and the prisoner doing?"  
"We're doing well."

"One of these days I'll have to watch the two of you together." Mister Grindelwald murmured. "See if you're treating him properly or if you're being too gentle... have you had much experience?"  
"Not before I came here sir, no," Credence answered. The truth was that he was still a virgin, but it was safer to pretend he had some experience than let Mister Grindelwald learn the truth.

"I am always willing to teach you," Mister Grindelwald warned. "I think it might be good. I have you around my house all the time, sleeping in a bed I gave you and eating food I have paid for. It's about time that you gave me something back, don't you agree?"  
"Yes sir," Credence mumbled, then jumped as the fire suddenly turned a brilliant green.


	9. Chapter 9

Seeing Credence sneaking into the cell startled Percival a little. The young man looked in a worse state than he had been in earlier, his face was pale and eyes wide with fear. He wrapped his arms around the younger man as best as he could. He could feel him shaking, his eyes wide with terror, and he needed to calm things down.  
"Credence?"

Credence leaned up and kissed him with a surprising amount of passion. It only took a few moments for him to focus and kiss back, brushing his lips gently against Credence's. A few seconds after that he kissed him more fiercely, his hands running down to rest on Credence's hips, to comfort him and keep him close. Credence leaned into the touch, letting out a soft moan after a moment.

"You came back?"  
"I don't want him to ..." Credence began, and then his voice trailed off. "I like being here with you."  
"I don't understand," Percival said softly. "He's clearly wanting you to manipulate me, but you haven't asked for anything."  
"I'm asking for something now." Credence gazed up into his eyes. There was terror there, but there was hope as well. Percival could see that. He reached up and gently stroked his fingers through Credence's hair, the chains around his wrists rattling slightly.  
"Then ask me?" 

"I don't want him to be my first." Credence mumbled. "Ma always said it was important that it was someone ...someone you could love. I couldn't love him." He swallowed and closed his eyes. "Please. I could never love him."

Percival swallowed a little, hardly able to believe what he was being asked. He was ready to refuse, or argue, but Credence was looking up at him hopefully. It was true Credence had asked him for nothing else, and he dreamed about the young man. It would hardly be a hardship, and he wasn't unexperienced with men - even if his usual type were other aurors. He couldn't ignore the fact that Credence was powerful despite his slender frame.

He wasn't taking advantage, not when Credence wanted this, not when everything was falling into place. After weeks of torture, this was the offer of something kind, something that would be good for both of them. He couldn't refuse. He didn't want to refuse.

If this was going to be Credence's first time, he would make sure that it was special. He smiled at him fondly.  
"Think we are both wearing too much at the moment," he prompted, reaching out to undo Credence's shirt.

Credence looked suddenly hesitant. Percival watched the fear play across his face, before confidence appeared in the place of his uncertainty. He leaned forwards, reaching to unbutton Percival's shirt, and pausing at the sight of the cuffs around his wrists.  
"Can you take them off?" Percival asked hopefully.   
After a moment, Credence shook his head. "I can't, and anyway, I'm not allowed..." Credence sounded painfully afraid.  
"None of this is allowed," Percival reminded him, as softly as he could. "I can't promise you that he won't find out."

"He will," Credence said, unbuttoning Percival's shirt so he could reach out with his fingertips, tracing old scars. "He might hurt you."  
"I don't mind," Percival said honestly. "We both deserve this. And he'll hurt me regardless." He unbuttoned Credence's shirt, and Credence shrugged, the white fabric falling to the floor. It revealed lines of scars, thickly matted together.  
"What did he do to you?" Percival asked. These scars weren't from magic. They were from more primitive, more brutal torture.

"It wasn't him," Credence whispered. "It was from before I was with him." He shook his head, then reached for Percival's pants, undoing them and then helping Percival to remove his boxers. Percival shivered a little in the cold of the cell, but Credence pressed into his side, his body warm. 

Percival was gentle as he undid Credence's pants, reaching to stroke a finger along Credence's length through the fabric of his underwear. Credence gasped, leaning into the touch. The expression on his face was pornographic, his entire body focused on the pleasure Percival was giving him after far too long in fear.

Percival kissed him again, and stepped out of his own pants, before finding himself faced with Credence's boxers. Normally he would have whisked them away with magic. Restrained now, he just pushed them to the floor, placing kisses across Credence's chest as he did so.

"I'm afraid I can't do the charms." Percival pointed out. "Can you?"  
"Charms?" Credence asked, frowning a little.   
Percival shook his head and smiled. "Don't worry. I can do it the No-Maj way. That's fun sometimes." 

"Where do you want me?" Credence asked softly.  
"On the floor, but use the clothes, I don't want you getting cold."  
Credence laid down on the floor of the cell, having arranged the clothing so that he wasn't in contact with the damp stone that lined the basement. Percival was sure that this would ruin both their outfits, but was willing to sacrifice his rags for Credence's comfort.

Percival had done this the No-Maj way before. But then he had used lotions and freedom to use his hands. That had been simpler. This was a challenge, slicking up his fingers as best as he could with his saliva before kissing Credence again. He pushed one finger into the warmth of Credence's body, feeling him tense beneath him before relaxing. He pressed more kisses to Credence's lips, as he slowly worked him open.  
"You feel so good, you really are beautiful, I hope you're enjoying this..."  
"I am..." Credence moaned, and shivered as Percival brushed his fingers against Credence's cock.

"More..." Credence whimpered, and Percival complied, adding a third finger to ensure that Credence was ready. He pulled out and then lined up.  
"You ready for this?" Percival asked. He felt tired after so long in the cell, and would have preferred to have Credence in a bed. But Credence nodded, seeking another kiss and Percival pushed forwards, rocking into him.

Credence moaned again, his body tight and hot. He whimpered, the sounds soft but needy, and Percival kissed him again and again to help keep him quiet. He was using his hands to support himself, so he couldn't touch Credence, but the younger man's cock was between the two of them, every movement making him gasp and cry out.

It wasn't long before Credence was moaning out in pleasure, louder and louder.  
"Percival!" he gasped as climax swept through him, staining their stomachs with his come. Percival rocked faster, pressing more kisses to Credence's face as he whimpered, driven past the point of pleasure before Percival climaxed.

He collapsed forwards onto Credence, panting and pressing kisses to Credence's face. Credence smiled up at him, looking dazed.  
"Thank you," he whispered, the words like a prayer. "I should go." He pulled on his clothes, screwing his face up slightly at the damp patches. Once he was dressed, he helped Percival to pull his own clothes on once more, kissing him and then turning away.

Credence paused on the top step, looking back over his shoulder at where Percival was waiting.  
"I'm sorry," he murmured, before his lips twisted in a faint smile. "Thank you."

The door closed, and Percival was left alone to consider what he had done. He had willingly slept with one of Grindelwald's followers. He had betrayed MACUSA. He wasn't sure he regretted it.


	10. Chapter 10

Giving yourself without marriage was sinful, even when Credence didn't allow his thoughts to dwell on the fact he had given himself to a man - a man who was probably trying to use him, who would view Credence as less. Who was magical and part of a world that would never accept Credence. He shivered. He knew he should have been grateful that Mister Grindelwald was willing to take him, to give him a way to pay back for everything that had happened, but he was frightened.

Returning to his bed, he lay in frozen terror, half expecting the door to open and for Mister Grindelwald to walk in. But that was unavoidable. What mattered was that he had managed to snatch a brief moment for himself first, that he had been able to take a few seconds of Mister Graves' time. That he and Percival had made love, and nothing Grindelwald did could take away from that. His first time had been with a man he cared about. He was embarrassed by how proud he was of that stolen moment. Mister Graves was a traitor to wizardkind. But he was gentle, and he was patient, and Credence was grateful for him every moment of every day.

He tried to sleep, and eventually managed it, even though fear of eventual punishment continued to swirl through his thoughts.

***

The next few days fell into an easy rhythm. He would work with Grindelwald, help him maintain his grip on power, and then he would sneak food down to where Percival was waiting. Credence and Percival had become lovers in a way, sharing kisses along with what scraps he was able to provide. The two of them would touch each other, and sometimes they made love, and Credence felt safe in Percival's arms. He knew it was all an illusion, all a deluded dream, but he needed it to be true and didn't fight the chance to believe in it. For the first time he could remember, he felt hope. He didn't think it was love. He didn't think that Percival felt the way he did, but it was a single strand of hope in a world devoid of it. He wasn't brave enough to let it go.

Hot dogs were probably Percival's favourite food. Credence would sneak out and buy them whenever he got the chance, because it was a reminder of the old life. It made Percival smile, and Credence was always happy to give him anything he could. He liked it when he was able to earn Percival's smile.

He enjoyed resting his head on Percival's chest. He could hear Percival's heart beat when they did that. He closed his eyes, letting Percival run his fingers through Credence's dark curls. He enjoyed the warmth of Percival's skin, bare against his own. It felt comfortable. It felt safe. It was like he had deserved a good thing, for all the pain that had come before. He relaxed, and in doing that he made a mistake.

He tensed as he heard the door open, but for a second he ignored it, pretending that he was resting on Percival's chest in a soft bed. He regretted it a moment later as he heard footsteps, wooden boards creaking as he walked down towards him.

"Really boy?" Mister Grindelwald spat. "You do know I didn't give you your toy for you to cuddle up like that."

Credence cringed, and felt Percival's grip tighten on him.  
"Leave the boy alone," Percival snarled. "Your issue is with me."  
"It's not with you, Percy," Mister Grindelwald said coldly. "You don't matter to me, not at all. It's Credence I care about. He needs instruction, and I thought this would have helped. It's just shown me what a disappointment he is."

With a wave of Mister Grindelwald's hand, Percival was thrown back against the wall. Thick cords emerged from the brickwork, wrapping around his wrists and ankles. He was held spread eagled, trapped on the wall. Credence tensed, frightened of what Mister Grindelwald was going to do to him. He didn't want to see Percival hurt. It wouldn't be right.

Mister Grindelwald turned to Credence, and smirked slightly.  
"I want you to get down on your hands and knees for me. Look up at your pet. I'll show you how he should be used."  
Credence obeyed.  
Credence was expecting Grindelwald to start by hurting Percival. But that wasn't what was happening. Instead it was Credence that he approached, a slight smile on his face that left Credence feeling cold.

"What's happening?" he asked, before something he couldn’t see forced its way into his mouth, smothering his words. He could barely breathe. It was pressing against his throat, hurting him with each gasp for air.

Then the pain began. It stabbed into his most private places, making him scream.   
"You bastard," Percival spat, as Mister Grindelwald loomed over him. Credence had never felt trapped by Percival, but with Mister Grindelwald fucking him it felt like he was a pinned butterfly, life speared out of him as he twisted in brutal agony.

He was bleeding. This was the sin Ma had always spoken of, the action that was a sign of going to hell. This was the threat of the pit, of the fire that would never stop. Mister Grindelwald was brutal, gripping Credence's wrists firm enough to leave tight bands of bruises around his wrists for days to come, violent rings of purple across pale skin. He was thrust into, heard himself sobbing, and Mister Grindelwald made no attempt to stop. There was no pleasure here, not for Credence. Mister Grindelwald was enjoying every moment of inflicting pain, and Credence couldn't make the pain end. As the man behind him came closer to climax, he twisted his fingers and something grasped at Credence's throat, choking him.

When Mister Grindelwald climaxed, filling him with heat, he pulled away, kicking Credence to the floor. Credence gasped for air as the invisible substance in his mouth faded away..  
"Next time you will do better, do you hear me?"   
Credence whimpered and didn't reply.

"You will do better," Mister Grindelwald repeated. "Let me hear you say that."  
"I will," Credence answered, whimpering a little. He was shaking with fear, and couldn't make it stop.   
"You have to use your toy properly." Mister Grindelwald snarled. "Now."  
"Yes..." Credence whimpered, curling up into a ball.  
"Now boy," Mister Grindelwald demanded. Magic forced Credence to his feet, guiding him over to where Percival waited, then let go. He stumbled, nearly falling over.

"No," Mister Grindelwald ordered.  
"I can't." Credence whispered, feeling blood and other things running down his thighs. Percival was still tied to the wall. He wasn't struggling.  
"You can." Mister Grindelwald walked closer, his hand running down Credence's chest. Credence whimpered as Mister Grindelwald's thin fingers wrapped around Credence’s cock, stroking him. 

He felt his body harden in response to the caress, and whimpered.   
"Go on," Mister Grindelwald ordered. Credence obeyed. He couldn't do anything to make it easier for Percival. He was frightened, and if he tried to help it would be worse for both of them. 

He pushed into Percival's body. The sensation was strange. It was warm, and it felt tight around him. He knew how it felt from the other side, but this was different. This was what Mister Grindelwald had done to him. He was hurting his lover, and Mister Grindelwald was watching. He felt another kiss pressed to the back of his neck, and then Mister Grindelwald stepped back a little. He rocked into Percival, seeing how his eyes were screwed closed, how he was trying not to let out any sound. Credence had shown weakness, had sobbed and struggled. Percival endured.

He felt climax beginning to build, and was more relieved at the thought of the torture being over than anything else. He thrust harder, not letting himself look at Percival. If he did, he was going to break. He couldn't stop. Stopping would make it worse. 

He whimpered as climax ripped through him, and heard the door to the basement close. Percival spoke softly, his voice tight from pain.  
"He's gone."

Credence fell forwards onto his shoulder with a whimper.


End file.
